


Bucky the Smitten Barista is a Hero

by nekomas_heart



Series: College Cuties and Coffee [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Make sure you read the notes for warning information
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 03:16:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1924662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekomas_heart/pseuds/nekomas_heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Steve returns a favour, Nat's in real trouble, and Bucky saves the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bucky the Smitten Barista is a Hero

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for someone being drugged. I'd rather spoil some of the story now than freak anyone out as they're reading. As you can see there are no serious warnings, so that's all I have to tell you about. 
> 
> Other than that, I will chat about the fic some more in the end notes. I hope at least some of you like this... I posted it right away after finishing it, so like usual I apologize if it still has errors, especially with formatting.

Steve decided at the last minute that rather than show Bucky a shitty handjob, he wanted to show Bucky a shitty _blowjob._   
  
Before Bucky even caught up with the situation and pulled down his pants, Steve scrambled to the ground and kneeled in all his naked glory. His cheeks were pink as he ran his hands up Bucky’s thighs in a comforting sweep, and Bucky knew he was steeling himself for what he was about to do.   
  
Steve was admittedly sloppy, but Bucky wouldn’t have traded it for all the treasures in all of the world, Steve massaging his balls while lapping at the precum trailing down his cock. He tried taking all of Bucky in, the brunet gasping at his _fucking bold_ efforts, and when he realised he couldn’t manage that ( _yet_ \-- he’d figure it out someday), he settled for using his hands on what he couldn’t get his tongue around.  
  
What made it so God damn _good_ , despite his complete inexperience, was Steve’s determination. What he lacked in skill he made up for in passion, and it was magical because Bucky had seen what obtaining skill could do to a person’s soul. The girl who nervously (albeit excitedly) blew him when they were 16 had a light in her eyes and a tint to her cheeks. She was happy, Bucky was happy, and the whole experience was very pleasant.   
  
That light had long been extinguished from the eyes of the few ladies that blew him at 18. Their hollowed cheeks only ever flushed after they’d been holding their breath; they purred at Bucky with a fake, over-exaggerated eagerness that left a horrible taste in his mouth (even though they were the ones doing the sucking). Years of servicing countless scumbags out of _obligation_ , desperation, and a fear of being alone had left them worn down but given them a technique to die for. After staring down into their sad, dead eyes, Bucky thought maybe those poor girls _did_.   
  
He carded his fingers through Steve’s hair, heart fluttering at the sight of him. The blond smiled, or attempted to smile, with a mouthful of his cock, and when Bucky came, all he could think about was keeping that passion alive in Steve, not damaging his soul. He swallowed what he could manage, surprising the hell out of Bucky, and used the towel to catch what he couldn’t, climbing up onto the couch and leaning his head on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling his cheek into Steve’s ruffled hair for long moments until the fact that they were still naked on the living room couch caught up with them.   
  
They redressed in comfortable silence. Bucky quickly put away the DVD and turned off the television while Steve watched and wondered if maybe they’d ever be able to sit next to one another long enough to see a movie the whole way through. Once finished, Bucky took Steve’s hands and lead him down the hall and to his room, dropping the towel they’d taken turns soiling into his laundry basket.   
  
“I have a small TV in here,” Bucky broke the silence, “if you wanted some background noise.” He flopped back onto his bed and patted the spot next to him. Steve nodded in affirmation that he would, in fact, enjoy having the TV on, laying down next to Bucky.   
  
“I have a Queen, you know.” Steve bragged, propping his head up on his arm.   
  
Bucky laughed. “Well, a full is big enough for the both of us. What more do ya want, punk?” He teased.  
  
“Jerk.” Steve playfully shot back, taking a moment to admire Bucky’s tousled hair and stubbled jaw and the sound of his own heartbeat. “C-Can I, um…” He worried his bottom lip. “Can I call Nat and tell her I’ll be here tonight?” Asked Steve all in one breath, nervously awaiting Bucky’s rejection.   
  
Instead of the disgusted look Steve expects, Bucky’s face lit up, overjoyed at the idea of sharing his bed with Steve. “Of course!” He assured. “Of course. _Yes_ , stay here.” Bucky was unaware of what he’d done to deserve this, but he’d gladly take the opportunity to be with Steve for as long as he could. Steve reached into his pocket for his cell and dialed Natasha’s number.   
  
It rang and rang straight to voicemail, and when Steve inhaled in preparation of his message, Bucky snatched the phone from his hand.   
  
“Hello, Nat-a-Tat! This is Bucky speaking.” He greeted sweetly. Steve flushed and reached for the phone, Bucky covering Steve’s face with his hand and keeping the blond out of reach. “Your pal Stevie here is gonna be sleepin’ with me tonight,” he huffed out a breath as Steve pushed at his chest in retaliation, “but I promise No Funny Business. Scout’s honor!” He removed his hand from Steve’s face to make the three-finger salute. “I’m literally doing the finger thing right now.” He promised, and Steve just laughed, giving up on getting to speak in the message. “We love you!” Bucky sang. “Have fun doing whatever kept you from answering your phone!”   
  
He hung up and placed Steve’s mobile on the nightstand next to his side of the bed, plugging his charger into the bottom. “I have a charger if you want to plug that in.” He offered despite having already done so, and Steve thanked him quietly, resting his head comfortably against Bucky’s chest and still laughing softly to himself about the message Natasha would have to hear.

  
They lied still in the dark, both oddly comforted by the bland sounds of some reality show. The pale light from the TV illuminated the angles of Steve’s face, making him look all the more like an ethereal figure, and Bucky tightened his arm around Steve’s waist.   
  
“Why’d you get your tattoo?” Steve questioned suddenly, his voice sleepy and low, his throat vibrating against Bucky.   
  
He thought long enough for Steve to shift his position and look up. “I’m thinkin’ of how I could explain it.” Bucky offered, and Steve returned to cuddling up to his chest, taking Bucky’s left hand and toying gently with his ink-covered fingers. “I guess I just… felt so much like a robot my entire life. Just goin’ through the motions to please the world, as if I was programmed or somethin’.” He paused for a moment, watching Steve trace the lines on his hand. “Never really doin’ things cause _I_ wanted to… Just followin’ orders from everyone. _Especially_ my father.”   
  
Steve nodded against him in understanding, tracing farther up Bucky’s arm. “And what about the star?”   
  
“The star?” Bucky repeated, not sure how to answer the question. “Well the star…” He trailed off. “Hmm… You know, I never really thought about it before. I think I want it to symbolise hope or somethin’. Like, in the middle of this machinery, there’s this little red star...” He squeezed Steve’s waist and shook him a bit. “‘ _Shoot for the stars, Buck!_ ’ is probably what it’s sayin’.” Steve chuckled at the high pitched voice Bucky gave his tattoo, and Bucky smiled down at him.   
“Here’s to hoping things work out for this little robot.” He mumbled to himself and threaded his tattooed fingers between Steve’s pale ones.   
  
Bucky certainly didn’t remember falling asleep, but it was apparent that he had when Steve’s phone ringing next to him jolted him awake. He never coined Steve as a heavy sleeper, but the blond never stirred, still lying peacefully against Bucky.   
  
He craned his neck to read the caller ID. Natasha. “Steve!” He stage whispered, shaking him. “Steve?” Bucky raised his voice, but Steve continued his light snoring. Bucky rolled his eyes, smiling fondly, and decided to answer the phone himself. After all, Natasha may not have gotten their message, and he knew she always thought the worst when she couldn’t get ahold of Steve.  
  
He cleared his throat to rid the sleep from his voice and unlocked the phone. “Hey. Steve is--” A broken sob on the other end of the line took his full attention.   
  
“ _Steve?_ ” Natasha pleaded.   
  
“Hey, hey Nat.” Bucky didn’t bother correcting her. “Where are you? What’s wrong?”   
  
“ _Went out._ ” She breathed, and the muffled sound of EDM in the background clicked. “ _Drinking._ ” She added at the last minute, like she’d just remembered. There was so much chatter and giggling in the background on top of the music that Bucky could barely understand her.   
  
“What were you drinking? Are you drunk? Do you think someone drugged you?” The questions left him at a rapid pace; he was unable to ask just one at a time. Natasha was quiet for a long moment, the only sign she hadn’t hung up being the noise Bucky could still hear.   
  
“ _D’nno._ Mmaybe? _Hope not_.”  Her voice was scratchy and her words slurred. Bucky was up and moving before she’d finished speaking, sliding as carefully as he could out from under Steve and rushing to get his wallet and keys.   
  
“Natasha listen to me, where are you?” He slipped on someone’s pair of sandals. “What club?” He specified, jogging into the garage and straight to his car.   
  
“ _Girls’ bathroom._ ” Natasha sighed. “ _On th' floor._ ” She sounded pained at the realisation that she was sitting on the floor in a dingy college town dance club, and it hurt Bucky to raise his voice even a little.   
  
“No Nat, what is the club name? Are you in town?” There were four clubs within walking distance of campus, but only one of them let in people under 21. That would be the logical place to go, but he didn’t know if she used a fake ID to get in. She said she’d been drinking.   
  
“ _Siffer._ ” She mumbled, sounding for all the world like she was about to shut down and leave him without a clue.   
  
Bucky wracked his brain for what little information he might have on any of the local clubs, tapping the steering wheel impatiently as the garage door took its time to open. Mov3 was the one that let in 18 year olds, but he didn’t know what that had to do with siffer…   
  
Zephyr.   
  
“Nat!” He called into the phone, pulling out of the driveway. “Are you at Zephyr!?” He clicked the button responsible for closing the garage door and hoped that it would actually shut because he wasn’t sticking around to find out.   
  
“ _Siffer._ ” Natasha repeated. “ _Wanna come home._ ” She whined after a moment, and Bucky was thankful she’d gone to the closest possible place to their apartment. It probably took her twenty minutes to walk there from the Landing, but it would be about a five minute drive for Bucky.   
  
He watched the clock change from 1:21 to 1:22 while waiting for the singular traffic light keeping him from finding Natasha, and he swore a light never took so long. No one else was on the road; they were either waiting out last call or already in their beds. The light turned green, and he sped to the parking lot across from the club. There were more cars than he expected, and he cursed upon having to squeeze into a tight spot because two jackasses couldn’t park. If he hit the car next to his when he swung open the door, it was a _total accident_.   
  
He ran into the club, feeling very much like an idiot when the first floor was relatively quiet, hipsters sitting around small tables in clusters, likely discussing coffee prices or which new obscure band would sell out first. He rolled his eyes and took to the stairs -- he heard the familiar bass thump coming from the second floor.   
  
The scene from the second floor was much more like what Bucky expected to find, bodies thrashing and grinding and _making no room for him to walk_. He pushed through the crowd, prying clingy, drunken blondes off of his shirt.

 

No one questioned his dingy sweatpants or why he shot into the women's restroom. A few ladies who'd been standing at the mirror glanced at him for a moment but carried on what they were doing as if he wasn't even there.

 

"Natasha?" He called out, scanning the bottoms of the stalls for feet. In the very last one he saw Natasha's curled form, and he gently pushed open the door. She barely lifted her head to look at the intruder, her eyes rolling a bit before she could focus.

 

"Steve?"

 

"Bucky." He said, bending to scoop her up bridal style.

 

"Bucky." She repeated with a happy sigh, slinging her arms over his shoulders and burying her face in his neck.

 

"Yep." He assured, picking up her bag and phone. "Gonna get you home safe to Steve."

 

"'S a guy." She warned him. "Bought my drinks?"

 

"Yeah?" Bucky urged her to continue, his stomach flipping nervously.

 

"Hid from 'im in th' bathr'm." She leaned back to look at Bucky, furrowing her eyebrows seriously but barely able to focus on his face. "He's lookin' for me."

 

He nodded and cradled her head against his chest. "Well you're with me now. I'd kill him." Bucky promised. The crowd parted, everyone moving upon seeing he was carrying someone, and he easily got her down the stairs and out to fresh air. She'd been mumbling the whole time as he got her to his car and buckled her in.

 

They were halfway home when she managed to turn her head and face him. "Bucky?"

 

"Yeah?" He asked, glancing over to her quickly then back to the road.

 

"Kill him."

  
She didn't speak again. 

  
  
There was no doubt in Bucky’s mind that whichever asshole was giving Nat drinks slipped something into one of them. He just thanked the Heavens that she was smart and was able to hide from him once she figured it out, however she managed that. It was also pretty good for Bucky that she was so light to carry.   
  
As carefully as he could, he laid the limp girl on their couch, wincing at the memory of Steve sucking his dick there just hours before. He sat her bag on the coffee table and shuffled to the kitchen to get her some water and an aspirin, though he’d have to do some research to figure out when she could take it or if she shouldn’t even have it at all. If he had her insurance information, he definitely would have had her at the hospital, but seeing as she was safe and still breathing and Bucky was _absolutely panicking_ , Bucky settled for sitting on the floor and watching her intently for any negative signs.   
  
She stirred about an hour after the sunrise, and Bucky was quick to soothe her, informing her of where she was and the gist of what happened. He’d put away the aspirin because he didn’t know what cocktail of drugs were already in her system, and the last thing he wanted was to kill this girl after everything, but he did hand her the glass of water. She sat up and downed it, coughing a little from drinking too fast and holding her head with a groan.   
  
“I’m always so careful.” She commented solemnly after long moments of silence. Bucky just nodded, not sure what he could say to that. He also hadn’t slept beyond the few hours before getting her call, so he was running low on energy. Natasha took notice of the dark circles under his eyes, feeling awful for being so problematic.   
  
“Come here.” She ordered, spreading her knees and motioning for him to lean against the couch between them. Even when scratchy from sleep and alcohol, her voice was intimidating, so Bucky did as he was told. When he was comfortably in place, Natasha ran her fingers through his hair, keeping her hands busy by silently braiding and twisting it.  
  
“It’s weird, but I remember everything.” She told him, starting a french braid and undoing it. He hummed in response to either her words or the braiding, she wasn’t sure, but she continued both. “It feels like a dream, yeah, but I know it’s not.” Bucky nodded to show he was listening and leaned his head against Natasha’s knee.   
  
“He was really charming, you know? Like all the ‘nice guys’ always are. Made me feel totally safe to be hanging around him.” She dragged her nails lightly over his scalp, and he sighed in contentment.   
  
“Where were your friends?” He asked, voice just above a whisper, and felt her shrug. She started another braid.   
  
“The people I went with weren’t that close to me anyhow, I guess. But this Alex guy was keeping me company, and…” She trailed off for a moment, thinking. “I suppose I really wanted some positive male attention?” Scoffing, she ruffled his hair to take out her unattractive attempts at french braiding. “It’s stupid, I know. It’s--”   
  
Bucky was lightly snoring against her leg. Nat just smiled fondly and kept working at his hair.   
  
She’d figured out how to give Bucky a perfect waterfall braid before Steve came padding into the living room looking for him. He jumped back and rubbed his eyes at the sight of Natasha.   
  
“Wha…?” He asked, bewildered. Bucky was slumped against Nat’s leg, his lips parted slightly and snoring almost inaudibly.  
  
“He’s been napping for about 90 minues.”  
  
“No I’m trying to figure out why you’re here?” Steve took a seat on the couch next to her. “Has anyone else woken up? There’s two other guys here who don’t know either of us are still in this house.” Steve hissed, looking behind him to see if anyone was coming down the hall.   
  
Natasha shrugged. “The past 12 hours are a bit of a blur, okay? So just… calm down.” She shook Bucky gently, and he jolted upright.   
  
“You okay?” He asked her in a panic, but he quickly settled, looking around and seeing Steve had joined them. He sighed. “Please don’t be mad…”   
  
“I’m honestly a little mad right now.” Steve said impatiently, awaiting an explanation.   
  
Bucky looked up at Natasha for permission to tell Steve everything, but she minutely shook her head and spoke for herself. “I had a little trouble when I went out last night. Buck came and got me.” She said it cheerfully, unalarming, and Steve narrowed his eyes.   
  
“You mean you were in trouble and you didn’t call _me_?” His voice raised more than he’d meant it to.   
  
“I did, dipshit. Bucky answered _your_ phone.” It was a damn good thing he did, too, but Natasha didn’t vocalize that.   
  
“And you didn’t wake me up?” He turned to Bucky. Steve was hurt and disappointed, but it was quite obviously aimed inward at himself.   
  
“I tried to, but I wanted to get her as soon as possible. It’s okay, Steve. She’s fine.”  
  
“I know.” Steve grumbled, bouncing his leg.   
  
“Then quit blaming yourself. God, you’re going to give yourself a heart attack.” Her voice softened. “I know you care about me, but you don’t have to take it upon yourself to make sure I never skin my knee, alright?”   
  
He nodded and then, “What was the problem? Why was it so urgent?”  
  
Natasha made sure to answer before Bucky could. “Had too much to drink.” She shrugged as if it were no big deal. Bucky took the hint.   
  
“Her friends wanted to stay out, but she was ready to leave. Found out she was a bit too tipsy to get home herself.”   
  
Steve watched them for what felt like an hour to Bucky, but eventually the tension in his muscles eased, and he leaned back into the couch.   
  
“What’re you cooking me, Barnes? I’m fuckin’ starving.” Natasha huffed, squeezing his shoulders in a way that pointedly said _thanks_.   
  
He laid his hands over hers to say _you’re welcome_ then stood. “I only know how to make scrambled eggs and fried potatoes, is that okay?”   
  
Steve and Natasha looked to each other and back to Bucky. It was just fine. 

**Author's Note:**

> This all of a sudden took a totally different turn from where I was going to take it. I'm pleased because the other characters are starting to reveal themselves to me, and they are growing before my eyes. In the first three parts of this series, I was only hearing Steve's voice and opinions, but as I'm sure you could tell while reading this, I was able to write some things from Bucky's and even a little from Natasha's point of view. I'm very excited about that. 
> 
> Hopefully it doesn't throw the story off too much. This part is rather different from the others, but I am really hoping it's different in a good way. 
> 
> The ever exciting Halloween party everyone is waiting for WILL BE PART 5. I won't make you wait anymore for my utterly subpar smut, I promise. 
> 
> Fun Facts: 
> 
> \- The Zephyr club is a real place near my Uni, and it has three floors, but I don't believe it is exactly a night club environment. It's a dive bar lol. 
> 
> \- Like Bucky, my elaborate breakfasts are usually scrambled eggs and if I'm super hungry sometimes fried potatoes. It's my favourite. Shhhh.


End file.
